


Of Love and Loyalty

by BabySpinach



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Inquisitor/The Iron Bull, Background Leliana/Josephine, Background M!OC/Cullen, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi, bi!cullen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29267424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabySpinach/pseuds/BabySpinach
Summary: A year before the events of Inquisition, Krem has a chance encounter with the beautiful and mysterious Margot. When they are reunited by the Herald of Andraste, will their relationship flourish or fail under the strain of war and competing loyalties?
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a journal at work in 2017 and recently refound it! I'm changing it a bit, but my love for Krem has been going strong since then! Hope you enjoy!

_ Serault _

Krem was decided that no amount of food and wine would make an Orlesian banquet bearable. Sure the food and wine were great, and it was all on the Marquis de Serault’s dime, but having to sit there while the Orleasian nobles shamelessly flirted with Bull made him less than eager to finish his food. 

Bull was loving it too, he always did. The man was good at playing a role and the randy, uncivilized, Qunari brute was his favorite. Bull flexed, sending titters throughout the crowd. Krem rolled his eyes. 

They were near the center of the banquet hall. Denizens of the surrounding town, as well as the hired mercenaries, were invited to a banquet celebrating one of their last free nights before Divine what’s-her-name arrived with the whole company. The Chargers had taken the job because the money was good and the Qunari wanted Bull in the middle of the Chantry nonsense. So now they were stuck in this backwater village eating canopies with lesser courtiers. 

“What’s wrong, not enjoying the spread?” Rocky asked from across the table. 

Dalish, already fairly sloshed, threw an arm around his shoulders. “More wine for Cremi-ser-ous,” her brow furrowed for a moment. “More wine for Krem.”

Dalish attempted to shove the neck of a wine bottle into his mouth. Krem carefully pushed it aside and stood. “I’m going to get some air if you need me.”

Krem made his way out to a low balcony. A few pillars shielded this particular outcropping from view so he relaxed, leaning against the railing. Below, groups of two or three promenaded around the lawn. Beyond the lawn, the lights of the town flickered faintly. That was where they all belonged, in the pub with the normal people.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned. 

A woman stood there, backlit in gold by the light of the banquet hall. Her dress had a Ferelden silhouette and was relatively muted in color. That was strange given even commoners were wearing their best, most audacious clothing. This woman either wanted to go unnoticed or was not concerned with social scandal. 

She demurely covered her mouth with a hand fan. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here.” 

After a moment, he recognized her as the Marquis’s clerk or estate manager or whatever. He didn’t know what she did, only that she would pay them and that she was a ubiquitous figure around the estate. Up close, she was very beautiful with warm russet skin and cascading, tightly coiling chestnut hair. He wasn't the only one who'd noticed. According to Bull, the Marquis seemed too attached. 

"Would you mind if I joined you?" She asked, just a hint of an Orleasion accent in her voice.

"No, not at all," Krem said, moving over so she could join him by the balcony. "Are you trying to avoid someone?"

"That's a presumptuous question to ask a lady when we haven’t been properly introduced.” She made a face. “I’m sorry, that was… I’ve had some wine and the Divine is on her way.”

Krem was taken aback by her erratic tone, but it was so genuine he found himself smiling back. He’d been surrounded by politics here for too long. 

“It’s alright, I should have introduced myself.”

“No need, I know who you are, Cremisious Aclassi, Lieutenant of the Chargers. I was the one who hired you.” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I should probably remember your name. I feel like I would have because you’re...” Krem stopped before he put his foot in his mouth. She was very good looking. “Important?”

“No, you wouldn’t. I prefer to act discreetly. You may call me Margot.” She held her hand out, facing down as was formal in Orlais, and politely ignoring his social blunder.

Krem took it and bowed with a dramatic flourish, pressing his lips chastely to her gloved hand. She smelled like oranges and honeysuckle. He rose and held her hand in a loose approximation of how he’d seen the nobility do it. “The pleasure is surely mine, m’lady. You  _ may  _ call me Krem.”

She giggled at his display, withdrawing her hand to cover her mouth modestly. “Oh, you are charming for a mercenary.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You meet a lot of mercenaries chained to that clerk’s desk of yours?”

“You’d be surprised.” She smiled coyly. “Your band is very unusual. To be honest, I hired you mainly as a distraction. It seems to be working, your boss is very popular.”

“He sure is distracting if you-” Krem broke off, suspicion rising. “A distraction from what?”

She pursed her lips and drummed her fingers on the marble, her whole posture seeming to slip. “Maker’s balls, who are you?”

“I’m… Krem?”

She laughed and this time it was harder, her mannerisms becoming less refined by the second. It was very unsettling to watch. And it was kind of hot.

Margot waved her hand dismissively. “No, I told you my real name, I told you about the distraction. That’s not me! I’m a good liar, I’m good at my job. I’m not supposed to go to pieces when one ruggedly handsome man looks twice at me.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Krem asked, brightening.

“I have eyes and a libido, Krem.”

He felt himself smiling, like an idiot as Margot glared up at him, seeming frustrated with his very existence. “So… do you want to get out of here? Grab a drink or a few, maybe?”

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “Fuck it. I’d actually really like that, but I’m in the middle of something, currently.”

Margot turned back to look out over the gardens. There was a moment of awkward silence then a figure clad in black fell screaming past them and hit the ground with a sickening thud. 

“Shit, are we under attack?” Krem moved to run back inside, but Margot grabbed his arm. She was nowhere near strong enough to stop him, but he let her.

“We were about to be under attack, but it seems the problem has been taken care of.” Her dark brows knitted together. “Not as discreetly as I’d hoped it would be.”

Then, the second strangest thing he’d seen that night happened, a rope fell in front of them and a hooded figure came scrambling down it. She threw back her hood to reveal the buffest elf woman he’d see in his life. She beamed at Margot and then looked over at him. “Ay, Thrush, did you bring a date to the assassination attempt?”

“Shrike! I said discreet! If you just followed my plan-”

“Hey, unless you want to get your hands dirty yourself, you’ll have to put up with my improvisation.”

“Defenestration? Really?”

“Excuse me,” Krem said loudly. Both women turned to look at him as if they’d forgotten he was there. “What the fuck, Margot?”

The elf looked sideways at Margot. “You told him your real name?”

Margot flushed and looked away. “He’s very hard to lie to.”

“If you say so.”

There was the sound of shouting and commotion from inside the hall. The elf swore under her breath and extended a hand to Margot. “We have to go, Thrush. We’ve been made.”

“Sorry, Krem, I think we’ll have to get that drink another time.” She smiled at him, fully and genuinely. 

Krem moved to help support her as she scrambled onto the balcony. “You think we’ll see each other again?”

“I hope so.” Margot wrapped her arms around her accomplice and then they were gone, disappearing down the rope and out into the night. 

Krem leaned on the railing and tried to process what had just happened. He shook his head and sighed. It wasn’t fair for someone like that to rush in and out of his life so fast it gave him whiplash. He wouldn’t forget her in a hurry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to a bunch of my OCs and their relationships to the War Council.

Margot hadn’t seen the full effect of the Conclave incident until she arrived at Haven. The breach hung above the town like an ugly sore, sending shivers down her spine. She knew this was big, world-changing even. She’d been working for Leliana, the scariest person in Thedas, for ten years and the rift scared her. That was a bad sign, to put it mildly.

Margot didn’t even bother putting her bags down, she left her horse in the care of a worn looking stablehand and rushed to find the Nightingale. 

Leliana didn’t even bother looking up from what she was doing. “Welcome back, Margot.”

“Yes ma’am. The assets you requested are secure. I have a list of those within the chantry who are most likely to stand against us and pressure points for more than half of them,” Margot said, letting work drown out her existential terror. 

Leliana finally looked at Margot. She looked more exhausted than Margot had ever seen her. There was a hardness in her eyes that softened when she saw her road-rough agent. “You look terrible, ma choupinette. Have you rested or bathed?”

“No,” Margot said looking down. She used to hate that nickname, but it was a relief to hear it now. It meant the woman who turned her from a too clever street rat into an adult was in there. “I knew this information was important.”

“So you haven’t seen your brother or Shrike?”

“No.”

Leliana sighed. “The report can wait. You need to compose yourself and attend to your family. Shrike has found herself suddenly thrust into the spotlight.”

“I’d heard, I still don’t really understand.”

“That would make two of us.”

Margot weighed her options and decided to press on. “I also wanted to make sure you were alright. I know how close you and the Divine were. First, the Hero of Fareldan disappears, and now this. You must be hurting very deeply.”

There was silence while Leliana purposefully and intentionally reshuffled the papers in front of her instead of reacting. They’d know each other for such a long time, fought together, lived together, laughed together. But this was the point where Margot always hit a barrier. 

“Thank you for your concern,” Lileana said, in a tone of voice that suggested she was not thankful at all. “The best way you can help me right now is to get some rest. I’ll need all of your wits if we’re going to get through this.”

“Yes ma’am, I understand. It will be done.”

Margot left the tent out into the freezing cold, hoping Leliana was opening up to someone, anyone really. It was late afternoon and Margot realized she didn’t even have a place to sleep. She wandered aimlessly through the camp for once feeling out of place. It was her job to fit in, to make people feel like she belonged there and was worth trusting. She didn’t have a role or an angle her yet.

“Thrush, is that you?” A loud voice echoed across the camp.

Margot turned with a rush of hope and joy. There was only one person who called her by her stupid code name. Sure enough, Shrike was running towards her at top speed. Margot barely had time to brace before she was swooped off of her feet and spun around. 

“It’s good to see you too, Shrike,” Margot said, her words muffled by Shrike’s strong arms pressing into her.

Shrike lowered her to the ground and beamed down at her former partner. Her red hair was short and messy as ever, her mismatched eyes and lopsided smile giving her a thrown-together look that was the opposite of Margot’s carefully curated appearance. 

“Want to see something weird?” Shrike wiggled her eyebrows at Margot with mischief.

“Last time you asked me that, I ended up covered in monster guts.”

Shrike laughed and shook her head. “Nothing like that, on my honor as a murderer and a sneak.”

“Oh, alright. Does this have anything to do with the rumors? They said you were ‘touched by Andraste.’ What does that mean?” 

Shrike shrugged, her posture tensed as if she was comfortable. “I have no idea, I don’t remember anything. All I know is I woke up with this thing on my hand that gives me magic powers.”

Shrike removed a glove and the two of them were illuminated by a bright green light that was identical to the light of the gash in the sky. Margot took a step back involuntarily. Shrike put the glove back on, concealing the strange light, looking a little hurt. 

“You’re right, that is strange,” Margot said, trying to cover. “They think that’s literal divine magic?”

“You got any better theories?”

“No, this is all so… abstract.”

“I know, usually you’d do the thinking and I’d do the stabbing. I think that part of our lives is over, Thrush.”

Margot nodded and sighed wistfully. “We’ll adapt, it’s what we’ve always done.”

“So long as they don’t make me do anything more important than closing those rifts and fighting, I’ll be fine.” Shrike clapped Margot on the back. “It’s good to have you back, Thrush. I missed your sobering influence.”

“Did you just call me boring?”

Shrike walked past her, hands deep in her pockets. “Maybe. C’mon let's go find mon loup.”

“Oui,  mon petit oiseau,” Margot replied. 

That’s who they were to Lelieana when they were children, or a young adult in Shrike’s case. Her sweet cabbage, wolf puppy, and little birdie. It was a strange family, but it was theirs. They hadn’t been all together like this in years, usually working solo or in sets of two. 

Shrike led Margot through the small village, transformed from a popular religious tourism site to a battle camp. It wasn’t just soldiers though, there were spies, diplomats, and ever parents with children. Margot swallowed acid as she watched two young children racing over to a fire where an older man mended leather armor. If Haven was attacked, they’d lose more than military power.

They walked through the gates, arriving at a makeshift training yard. Observing the templars and unaffiliated soldiers were the unmistakable silhouettes of Cullen Rutherford, Cassandra Pentaghast, and her erstwhile brother, Claude. He was standing next to Cullen, a bit back, occasionally whispering in his ear and pointing to a fighter. He’d shaved his dark hair in the back and had opted for a twist out on top. That was new.

Shrike called out to him and he whipped around. The hair wasn’t the only thing that was new, he was sporting a leather eyepatch over his left eye. 

Margot covered her mouth to stop the little yelp that almost escaped her lips. Claude jumped down from the platform and bounded through the snow on his long legs to pick her up the same way Shrike had. 

Margot let him, she really didn’t have much of a chance against his six feet of well-worn muscle. She folded her arms in protest. “Claude! What happened to your eye?”

He quickly put her down and rubbed the eyepatch as if he’d just remembered it was there. “Nothing to worry about. Everyone started going crazy in Kirkwall, you know. I got as many of the magelings out of the circle as possible. Would have lost the whole head if Commander Rutherford hadn’t stepped in.”

“You don’t use your head enough to miss it,” Shrike muttered.

“Hey!” Claude swatted at her, but she dodged, she’d always been too fast. He growled and turned back to Margot. His face, the same brown umber as hers, was crossed with more raw pink scarring than she remembered, but he was otherwise in-tact. “It’s good to see you again. I was really worried!”

Margot smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I was mainly reading letters and talking to servants.”

“Still,” Claude and Shrike exchanged a look. They’d always been protective. “This is war, little sister, no one is going to spare a clerk, no matter how un-threatening you look. I think you should learn how to protect yourself.”

“I do too, Thrust,” Shrike chimed in.

Margot shook her head, she absolutely detested violence of any kind. “Why don’t you two meatheads focus on not letting the demons get anywhere near this town. I’ll make sure we have enough blackmail money and leverage to keep everyone fed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Inquisitor in this psedo-AU is Lavellan, but she was raised in a human city instead of with her clan. Sorry, I just love the "city elf" lore and culture.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to everyone who played the Last Court. F in the chat for that funky little browser game.


End file.
